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Jocelyn was a shy girl who did not make new friends easily. Her free time was spent alone, often reading books or writing in her journal. One day a mysterious package arrived, addressed to her, with no return address. | Inside the package was a cellphone with a message that says "Why do you always look so lonely?". Jocelyn stared at the message not knowing what she should do. | She called her ex-boyfriend Pistol Peter, a fading matinee idol of advancing years, once famous but now confined to work in a call-centre with various failures and ne'er do wells. She said "I shan't tell you again, keep out of my life, you fiend!"

On the third or fourth day of my imprisonment, a note was slipped under my door. | It read: Jayda, we have a plan to get you outa here.

Who knew that a simple fall would lead to such an eventful day? | At first it was just an ordinary fall, full of clouds and rains and grumpy people all around. I was the same person, I suppose.

Ralph Carter was on the run. Shooting wild boars was one thing, but shooting the President of South Africa was quite another... | Life as a mercenary isn't easy

A long time ago in New York | when it was named New Amsterdam... | a man named Marvin wrote a song called "New Amsterdam - so good they named it once"

Stick with me said Mr Sellotape, the Butlins comedian.

There was once a little toad named Tommy Toodles. | And a frog named Freddie Fuddles | And a cat called Clemmie Cuddles. They all lived together in a place called The Huddles, and they liked to splash about in puddles. It almost rhymes said Clemmie Cuddles, as her owner drank a pint of Ruddles...

once upon a time there was a strange family. | Who lived in a strange suburb, and played strange board games like Dungeons and Dragons, and watched the Munsters on TV, because they looked like them.

There is a cat in house. | There is also a turtle, but we don't talk about him. | Every now and then we take our cat, Felix, to do modelling assignments. Timmy, the Turtle, gets quite jealous, but tTurtles (being unattractive), find it hard to get jobs as models. Just the way it is. I mean, I'm not turtlophobic or anything...

THX that's a great awensr! | said Cheryl as she completed her Mathematics assignment.

man walks down the street. realizes he's carrying an empty bag and a fedora. places the fedora on his head and looks into the bag. what was in the bag, he wonders? | Nothing. Because this bag is the one he shall use to carry his shopping when he finishes his weekly shop at Fine-Foods.

A ball is bigger than an atom | said Dr Krypton as he started work on his latest android, a female named Brigitte

It was a dark and stormy night.... | Aaron sat staring out the window in the cold | Aaron lit a cigarette and tears fell down his face

Laughter is infectious, unless you are unfortunate enough to hear Bob Pringle, the worst comedian in the world. Now, Bob sought a career in comedy but he just did not have what it takes to be funny. Not just the material, but also his looks | He went to Germany, and even the Germans found him unfunny

One day, I got on the bus. | The dreariness of the wrecked old machine weighed on me. | I was 70% sure there was a body on the back seats, there was chewing gum stuck to all the stop buttons, it made a creaking sound like the chassis might splinter if someone said something mean to it, and the driver was impervious to any kind of joy. | And that was just the bus. The driver looked like a skeleton with a beard and sunglasses, wearing dirty clothing, he never spoke at all, and he wouldn't let you on unless you gave him exact change. | I decided to get off, but I couldn't. The bus kept on, finally driving into a foggy marshland populated by the undead. This was my punishment for stealing my sister's pocket money at the age of five. A cautionary tale. | So I got off the bus.

"Unbelievable!" gasped Miss Wright, smacking her left hand against her forehead and raking it back through her curly black hair. In her right hand, she held a stack of essays - (college-ruled, double spaced, written in cursive with black ink) | And that's when I fell for her. My essay was top marked. When you write a story about skeletons you expect bottom marks, but she took me by surprise - she actually liked the story! | Time passed and I grew keen, but Miss Wright turned out to be Miss wrong for me as she rejected my advances. The "sting" in the tale was when she implored me not to stand too close to her.

I always wondered why my grandfather never shared he had been a pilot. | You see, my grandfather never actually got his pilot's license. Heck, when he enlisted, he lied about being 18. | You'd think the Air Force would have noticed a six-year old flying a plane, but apparently old Gramps was wilier than anyone'd expected. | Of course, tricking the Air Force into letting you fly one of their planes isn't something you tell everyone about, but, I was his grandson. I wouldn't have got him in trouble. | A 6 year old child prodigy with the height of a grown adult - that was Gramps in 1942. And he'd have gotten away with it if the Japanese hadn't captured him a year later and requested details including a birth certificate. The forged one was missing

Everyone said you can't hear sound in Space. They were wrong. All he could hear were Sara's screams. | But then I realized that WAS FUCKING STUPID OF COURSE I DIDN'T HEAR ANYTHING IT'S FUCKING SPACE WHAT AM I FUCKING DUMB? | I woke up. Oh, God, that stupid dream again. It wouldn't even make a good story, and I would know, because I publish a magazine of sci-fi stories, and that one wouldn't fly. Today's audiences are all about realism, even in science fiction. | said Brian the Sci-fi writer.

There once was a robot | he liked to wear hats | But only because his programmer, Dr Elmer Rosenburger, had a comical sense of humour. And why not? Why shouldn't a robot wear a hat? Is it a crime? Robot schmobot thought Elmer as he taught the robot, called Kerslake, how to smoke a pipe... | Then Elmer had an idea...

Once upon a time there was a mouse named Molly and she only liked things that started with the letter "M". | She hated things that started with the letter "N", so you could imagine how much she hated her neighbor, a mouse named Nigel. But Nigel loved Molly. | Nigel often thought of Molly whenever he was depressed. Her smile and her caring ways were what drew Nigel to Molly. He had asked her several times to marry him, but she always said no. | Knowing her to be the adventurous type, he invited her for a ride on his motorcycle. "Never!" she replied. "Then how about a movie?" he asked. "Not a chance." That gave him an idea. | He decided to visit the Mouse Mayor and apply to change his name to Maurice. This was duly accepted and he returned to Molly. Molly laughed in his face. I fooled you, she said, my real name is Nancy and I only like the letter "N". Except for "Nigel"

The sound of wind whistling through the tree branches was broken by the sudden snap of a twig as a figure in a torn wool coat raced stealthily away from the sharp glare of searchlights piercing through the trees in blue-white beams. | The figure knelt down. His sharp ears perked as the sound of something whirring came crashing into the peace of the forest. He knew what he had to do. | He grabbed his gun and fired at the helicopter, fatally wounding the pilot. He took him place and began to fly away from the police car that had almost caught him previously. Sid Temple was a hardened criminal, and this wasn't his first breakout

Cyril Prentice was a fantacist and a Fascist who lived in Notting Hill. He planned to assassinate the Prime Minister, Mr Eden.

The day started like many others. It was dark. It was cold. I wanted the day to be over already. Typical day. | If only I had my gypsy grandma's gift of ESP. I would then know what lay ahead.

"Aaaaghhh!" I heard the scream, not realizing at first that it was my own voice. | But who else screamed like a donkey getting castrated? Besides, I was completely alone...unless you wanted to include my alter ego: Barbara de Lateur...but that's another story for another time. It was pitch black and I was afraid. | Nestor, my cat, purred in my ear. Suddenly I was no longer alone.

Justin loved Northern Soul music and longed to increase his record collection

Why not make a change and move to the country? Stella decided to skip her wedding and go for it. | But Gerald followed her. He wasn't the type to take being jilted at the altar lightly. Gerald thought he owned Stella. Controlling and smelling of a mixture of Old Spice and Curry, fat Gerald started his pursuit.

I know my limits, said Eugene as he downed his 8th Guinness. Clearly he didn't as he stumbled into the main road, narrowly missing being run down by a lorry...

Fireman Jason Brant looked up, wincing as the flames sent searing pain through his burned face. his vision was blurry and he was certain he had been blown deaf in one ear. | He should have known better than to try it, but what else could he have done? There had never been any choice. | He was the nearest to the little girl, and yes ,he managed to save her from certain death. Weeks passed and he recovered well, as did the child he saved. The mayor gave him a medal for bravery.

Roy was a boring man. His co-workers called him Captain Clich?. Not that he ever knew. He was too wrapped up in corporate speak and consumerism to notice what people truly thought about him

It was the last day on Earth, and Michael woke up alone on the beach. | Everyone had gone to Planet Xenon except Michael. But, then Michael was a devout Christian age 94, so why take a rocket ship to Xenon when you could watch the end of life on earth..

Charlie was a sheepish young boy. His blonde-to-the-point-of-white hair hung in front of his ocean blue eyes causing him to stumble into many things. Chairs, tables, and even Beagle puppies were not immune to Charlie's clumsey antics. | As an albino, sight was impaired, so he wore dark glasses, which made him resemble the singer Arno. One day

As darkness falls, the mute treks along the highway, backpack slung over his shoulder. | He shuffles slowly, as is his wont. Gazing straight ahead. No time to admire the views, just more walking.

It was a dark and stormy night. | Rain fell from the sky in exactly the way a dinosaur wouldn't. | That was the abstract humour of Beauregard Fitch, the renowned humourist, whose illustrious career had hit rockbottom. What now? No publisher would touch a dried up alcoholic whose capacity for literary output was now limited..

It was so cold that afternoon. Too cold to go outside. | So I put on the central heating and stayed indoors. I turned on the TV. An old episode of the Twilight Zone came on. The story was about

Jackson Piper was a karaoke singer. The kind that loves himself and thinks all the girls love him too.

I met a guy named Mike | , a tall and thin figure, looking mediocre in that fancy glass. | said Betty the paratrooper, smiling at the sickly stickfly Beta-male wearing the soy-boy pink shirt and green sandals. But that's what the girls go for these days, thought Mike, and he was right, because Betty reached out, grabbed him by the | hand and led him to her Ford Cortina. Let's go for a drive, honey, said she in deep tones... | So the car sped off at quite a speed.

It started with an error screen. | Then I had to scream and flail my arms about. This wasn't good, after all, I do work at a nuclear power plant. | My previous job was in the Swiss Navy. That lasted a week. I've never been that lucky at work.

You re about to experience everything | Everytime you die, you will go through your life all over again, but you will be able to do something differently. How would you like to undo your mistakes and rectify your regrets? | This was the question posed by Dr Reuben to his patient (or should we say Guinea Pig) Luke Brosnan in the life-simulator machine. Lie back and make your choice. Just one thing to be changed. What will it be?

Bonjour tout le monde! Je veux dire... | said the German travel guide as the coach passed through Paris. This impressed Rita and Sara, two English girls from Scarborough, on holiday for the first time.

Once upon a time, long, long time ago, there lived a space boy. His name was Freddy. Freddy Chesterton and he looked weary. His opinions and likes were split just as his house was and his mother was like all the mothers of us, just a bit more dreary. | As he stood in the doorway, he reached inside his trousers and pulled out a silver, oily crescent wrench that would be the envy of any self-respecting plumber. | Right, let's get working in this spaceship. Repairing a spaceship wasn't easy but a wrench would do the trick...

I left the house knowing that something was not quite right. | But I shook off the feeling thinking that it's probably just me being paranoid over nothing. | Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Don Costa. I'm a paranormal investigator.

"POP" Another Pimple fell prey to the wrath of the pinch. | I took a step back from the mirror and considered my life. Had I really just enjoyed popping a pimple? No that couldn't be... And so it wasn't. Good luck building off that lol | said Lionel to his fellow Ensemble contributor Seth. But Seth understood entirely and continued by writing "Plop - another depth charge occurred in the bathroom". Both lads were about 13 and rather puerile...

Another Thursday, another murder with the same MO as the last five. It was tough work, being the sheriff of the a town like this. Most other places have to deal with bandits and cattle-rustlers, but over here....well, mysterious killers are the norm. | This one was a real piece of work, the sheriff thought as he leaned into his chair. A month ago, the corpse of Father Callahan was found at the church, apparently beaten to death by one man. More bodies turned up every week since then, all the same | all charred and dismembered. What kind of creature could commit such a heinous crime against a man of the church?

Once upon a time, three women were on a journey | A journey to Penge in South East London. Why Penge? What mysteries could a little known suburb hold for three spinster sisters, desperate for romance and adventure in Victorian England?

I bought an apartment days ago and decided it was time to move in. My soon to be roommate said it was fine with me moving in any time. I packed the little things I have and made my way to the apartment. I took the key under the mat and open the door. | And that was when my luck took a downturn. I spent my first night in there petrified as a saw various spirits flying above me as I hid under the bedclothes. I'd moved into a haunted apartment with little previous knowledge of the supernatural.

I starred at him in horror. "What have you done?", i asked. | "I made you a cake. Damn it Mary, why can't you appreciate anything I do for you?", the man replied, standing in the kitchen with a cake in his arms and a burning oven behind him. | "Oh I appreciate you making me a cake, Chuck. I just don't appreciate you burning our oven and possibly our house down!" I tell him as I ran through the house looking for something to use to cool the fire down. "Mary! I, uh.." | "Not now, Chuck, the kitchen's on fire!" I called. "No, I know, but you really shouldn't go further into the house!" "Why not? That's where the extinguisher is!" "Yes," he said, putting down the cake, "but there's also a | nesting dragon. You don't want it to think you're a threat to its eggs."

Why do you have to feel this way about him, you asked yourself. Oh that's right, it's because you're completely goshdarned crazy, of course it is, that's the only remotely rational explanation for such ridiculously, hideously awful taste in men.

It was hard to be honest. I wasn't sure how to say it. But one day, one Friday evening after little thinking, I decided to speak out. And I shared out, even though nobody could possibly understand me. I explained the secret as best as I could. | "Keats was wrong. Truth is not beauty, beauty is not truth. The world is ugly, in lots of stupid ways. But if you pay attention - to what's true, and what's beautiful, and the difference between them - you can find ways to make beautiful things

Martz had not slept in days, and spent the past month checking and rechecking his calculations. Ironically, every time he picked up a pen, he only exacerbated the problem he observed -- we're running out of reality. | The government's been doing what they can but it turns out it's hard to ration reality. Those who over-experience are robbing the rest of us of time, but perhaps it's worth it? Surely it's better to go out feeling something.

Once there was a beaver who built himself an elaborate underwater house of sticks and logs. | This house was to keep out the aliens. You see he'd also lined it with tinfoil. It was known to be deadly to aliens. | Unfortunately it didn't work so well against the invaders from the hollow earth, whose ravenous appetites for aluminium drew them to his home in great numbers.